


Winterhawk Shorts

by thiswilldrivemecrazy



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AUs from tumblr, M/M, Shorts, one shots, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-18 12:57:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3570497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thiswilldrivemecrazy/pseuds/thiswilldrivemecrazy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short one-shots taken as prompts from AU post listings on tumblr. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Is now really the time?

“I was the one who sent that Valentines card.” Clint kept his back pressed against Bucky, left hand raised on guard, the other still wrapped around the riser on his bow. He was itching to pull an arrow from his quiver and take down at least one of the Hydra goons surrounding them, but he’d run out of arrows well before they’d been surrounded. 

“What?”

“Your hearing going too? I said I sent you that Valentines card.” 

“Do you really think now is the time or the place to confess your love for …”

“I didn’t say anything about confessing love…” Clint’s tone was far more playful than the situation really called for. “But now that you mention it…” 

“I love you.” Bucky interrupted him.

“What?”

“Your hearing aids messing up? I said I love you.” 

“You know what this means, right?” 

“What, you’re not going to say it now? Kinda insulted, Barton.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“Good.”

“What I was going to say is that now we can’t just let these goons take us down.”

“Hawkeye, please. Like that was ever going to happen. Let’s blow this joint.”


	2. It's cold

Bucky trudged through the snow behind Clint, just managing to keep sight of the glow stick on the back of his mission partner’s quiver and keep his feet under him against the bitterly, bitterly cold wind whipping the snow around them and reducing visibility to a level that wasn’t really worth mentioning. He just hoped that they were headed in the right direction to reach their extraction point. He’d never held much faith in compass marching in low visibility, especially in trying to find a cabin that they weren’t even sure if it was in this direction. 

It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle the conditions, he had done so in the past, and had been the one leading through the snowstorm, or trudging through on his own. His dislike of the situation came down to the fact that he did not want to be doing this and now he could damn well choose to not want to do it. It had been Barton’s idea to take the chairlift up as far as it could go and then ski back down and then the snowstorm had set in. This was the last time that he let Clint chose the holiday activity. 

Bucky was so focused on following Clint through the storm, that he didn’t notice that Clint had actually found the cabin until he almost tripped up the stairs on the porch. He managed to keep his feet under him, and stumbled across the porch to the door Clint was holding open. 

“You actually found it.” 

“Your lack of faith is your weakness, Bucky,” Clint said. He pulled the door shut behind them and squinted around the cabin. It was abandoned, with a thick layer of dust on most of the surfaces, and no firewood in sight. Inside was definitely warmer than out, but it still wasn’t all that comfortable. 

“No firewood, nothing to light it with anyway – or nothing obvious.” He paused for a moment. “You ok?” he asked. 

“Yeah. Yeah, just cold.” 

Clint raised an eyebrow. “You’re the Winter Soldier. Surely…” 

“Yeah, well now I don’t have to face the cold I can choose not to. Next time, we check the forecast before going out.” 

“Uh-huh.” Clint looked around the room for a moment, trying to guess if and where there would be any blankets stored. There was a bed near the fire place, with a large camphor-wood chest at its foot. “Come on, we both need to warm up. Gonna have to snuggle.”


	3. Nice digs

“I can’t believe they’re making us do this,” Clint grumbled, fiddling with his tie. Why were the damn things so hard to tie neatly. 

“Do what? They’re not making us do anything you could have said no,” Bucky called out from the next room. 

“They didn’t say formal wear when I said yes. It was just a party invite.” 

“As if Stark wasn’t going to make it formal. I don’t think he does parties that aren’t formal.” 

“Yeah, well, I think he was just trying to make me uncomfortable. There’s no range of arm movement in this jacket. Can you help me with the tie? It’s not sitting straight no matter what I do.”

“So take it off when we get there. And sure. You’re getting a Windsor knot, though.” 

“A what-knot?” 

“A … “ Bucky’s sentence trailed off as Clint came out of the bedroom in a very well fitted 3 piece suit. “Wow. Nice digs.” 

Clint didn’t miss the reaction and grinned. He twirled on the spot, hands held out to either side and grinning. “You like?”   
Bucky stood up, smiling. “I do.” 

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” Clint replied. 

“You know. You could take it off now and save the trouble later,” Bucky suggested.

Clint smirked. “Nah. Then I miss out on an evening of you looking at me like that.”

Bucky chuckled and reached up to fix Clint’s tie. “This is true. Come on,” He took hold of Clint’s tie carefully and pulled him into a kiss. “The faster we make an appearance, the faster we can blow the party.”


	4. Going Steady

“Coming for coffee, Natasha?” Bucky slid his jacket on and went to stand with Clint at the door. 

“Oh. Sure. Just let me get my…” She stopped when she saw that Clint was with him. “Sure it’s ok? I don’t want to intrude.”

Bucky and Clint looked at each other and then back at Natasha. “What?” they asked in unison. 

“If this is a date …” 

“It’s not a date,” the reply in unison again, and then look at each other in horror. 

“It’s not a date,” Clint said again. “We’re just going to get coffee.” 

Natasha raised an eyebrow as she picks her jacket up and followed them out of the room. 

***  
“Where are you going?” Steve asked, looking at Clint and Bucky over the back of the couch. They always seemed to be hanging out together lately, and going and doing things. He had even overheard them discussing going and seeing a show on Broadway together, which was strange for both of them.

“Movies. Wanna come?” Bucky asked. “The latest Captain America’s opened and…” 

“I’m not watching that again. Besides, I wouldn’t want to intrude. Have fun.”  
Clint and Bucky both raised an eyebrow at each other, shrugged and headed out.

“Why do they keep thinking they’re intruding?” Clint pulled his collar up and wrapped his scarf a little tighter around his face as the walked out onto the street. “It’s not like we’re dating or anything.” 

Bucky shrugged. “People are strange sometimes.”   
***  
“And how is the happy couple?” Tony snarked as they returned from the cinema. 

“What?” 

“Huh? We just went to see a movie, Stark. We’re not a couple.” Clint glared at Tony as he hung up his coat. 

“And there was coffee the other week – which is becoming a surprisingly regular occurrence for you two. And then there was dinner last week.” He grinned. “It’s like you’re dating or something. Hence, happy couple.” 

Clint and Bucky looked at each other, both running through all of their outings in the past month or so. 

“Are we dating?” Clint asked.

“I don’t… I mean is it a problem if we are?” Bucky replied. 

Clint smiled. “No, no it’s not.” He reached out, a little hesitantly and took Bucky’s hand. “So, I guess we’re dating?”

“I guess we are.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coffee shop/I'm writing about you AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't think of a cute title, if you have any ideas, let me know!

“What can I get you?” Clint asked, smiling at the regular customer. “James, isn’t it?” He scribbled the name on the cup and waited patiently for the other guy’s order. He knew the usual, but sometimes the writer liked to switch it up. He watched as James ran his left hand through his already rather messy hair and found himself fascinated (again) by the prosthetic arm that was far more dexterous than any others he had seen.

“Double shot dry macchiato with a pump of caramel,” James said, and Clint was glad he had asked. 

“Had a rough night?” 

“Have a deadline. If you could keep those coming every, say, hour or so?” James slid a twenty across the counter. “Let me know when it runs out.” 

“Can do.” 

Clint made the coffee up and slid it across the counter to James, who nodded his thanks and then moved through the cluster of tables to the only empty booth in the back corner, and settled down with his coffee and his laptop. He started typing away furiously, focusing in on his work and practically losing track of the world around him, except for the occasional glance up at Clint. 

At first Clint thought that James was looking over at him to bring another coffee over, but when he went over with a new one, the first wasn’t even half gone. 

“Oh, sorry. I thought – I thought you were done and trying to get my attention for another.” 

“Hmmm?” 

“You kept looking over at me. I thought…” 

“Oh, oh no, sorry. I’m… well…” James ran his left hand through his hair and tried to hide his embarrassment. “I’m just thinking, and when I do that, I stare off into the distance…” He couldn’t quite bring himself to look Clint in the eye as he said it. “You can, you can have that coffee if you want and put it on my tab.”

Clint frowned for a moment, but he nodded and returned to the counter quickly as a new group of customers came in the door. 

Half an hour later Clint caught James staring at him again, this time rather more intently than he had earlier and it felt as though he was being examined. He made another coffee for James – because even if he wasn’t finished, the first coffee would be cold – but he forgot to add the caramel syrup on purpose – it was an excuse to talk to the other man again if he couldn’t find out why he was staring when he took the coffee over. 

“Here you go.” Clint put the coffee down on the table. “Hope it’s ok, I figured that your first one would be cold by now…” 

James picked up the first cup and drank the last of what was left in a couple of gulps. “Thanks. It was definitely cold.” 

“How’s the writing going?” Clint kept his tone conversational. 

“Oh, yeah, pretty well.” 

“You’ve been thinking a lot?” 

“Huh?” 

“You said before, when I thought you were staring at me, that you weren’t – you were thinking and looking off into the distance.” 

“Oh, yeah. Thinking loads…” He ran his left hand through his hair again and picked up the new coffee, but didn’t take a sip.

Clint frowned, something wasn’t quite right about all of this. “I see.” 

James pursed his lips and shifted awkwardly in his seat. He put the coffee down and folded his hands on the table. “I’m not… I mean. I haven’t been quite honest with you,” he said. “I have been thinking, but I’ve been staring at you, too.”

Clint frowned. 

“No, nothing bad. It’s just… you’re my inspiration for this character.” 

Clint’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What?” 

James had turned bright red. “The main character. His name’s Clint. Mild mannered barista by day, but at night, he fights crime with a bow…” He couldn’t bring himself to meet Clint’s gaze. “And I was … well, I was staring at you, but only so I could describe your mannerisms…” 

“You turned me, me of all people into a superhero?” Clint wasn’t sure what to think. He was flattered, sure, but him? He was so boring that even coming to work everyday was more exciting than what he did at night. “Why a bow? Wait, bow as in bow and arrow? Or bow as in ribbon?” 

James laughed. “As in bow and arrow, but I could…” 

“No!” 

James laughed again. “So you’re … ok with it?” he asked shyly. The joke had broken the ice a little bit between them. 

“Yeah, well, how about you keep writing til I’m on lunch, and then you can tell me all about it?” 

“Over coffee?” James lifted his coffee with a questioning look at Clint. He took a sip and then frowned at it. 

Clint ran a hand through his hair. “I may have forgotten the caramel. So I would have an excuse to talk to you again, but…” He reached out and took the cup. “Since we’ve talked now, I’ll just go and fix this and bring it right back to you.” 

Half an hour later, when Clint’s colleague arrived, and he could clock off for lunch, he made another two coffees, and took a couple of sandwiches from the cabinet and joined James at his table. 

“So, tell me about me,” he said, putting the sandwiches and coffees down in front of him. 

“Well, it starts out with you falling off the roof of a building thinking, ‘This looks bad…’” James said, and started to explain the story.


End file.
